


Plan B

by kenjideath, strykelass



Series: Plan B [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bad Dirty Talk, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Small Penis, Soft Penis, Total Divas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath, https://archiveofourown.org/users/strykelass/pseuds/strykelass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plan A for Seth’s life was to break into the WWE, refine what it meant to be an Omega wrestler, bask in as much championship gold as he could win, and worry about starting a family once his body finally gave out on him, hopefully after a couple decades of being on top.</p><p>But when he’s forced into nine months of downtime at the height of the Omegas Revolution in wrestling, he’s forced to fall back on plan B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strykelass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strykelass/gifts).



A week after Seth ended his record-breaking title run with the Vestal Championship by tearing every tendon in his knee like an asshole, Dean got a call from him. A month ago, Dean would have let it ring, or picked it up just to rip Seth a new one. It seemed more than a little bit pointless now, though. Dean knew that being sidelined during the height of the Omegas Revolution had to be fucking killing him. Seth had been working his whole career for something like this, had turned his back on his brothers to get ahead despite his endotype, and now he had to watch the rest of the Omega roster flounder while he couldn’t do anything to help. Dean hadn’t forgiven him, but he was feeling significantly less inclined to jump out a box and beat the shit out of him.

To his credit, Seth didn’t waste Dean’s time by trying to butter him up. “Do you remember that pact we made?” he asked.

Dean’s first instinct was to say no. He and Seth had promised each other a lot of things, and as far as Dean was concerned, Seth had forfeited his right to all of them with his little steel chair stunt. He wanted to tell Seth to fuck off and go back to sitting in the dark, listening to metal and crying into his paleo meals. Unfortunately, Dean was pretty sure he did know which pact Seth was talking about and it was fucked up enough that Dean wanted to know where he was going with it.

“Maybe,” was what Dean ended up saying.

“Come to Iowa when you get a chance,” Seth said, and then he hung up.

Dean immediately decided that he wasn’t gonna go. He didn’t owe Seth shit, especially if Seth couldn’t even be bothered to explain what he wanted. It didn’t matter how soft and sad Seth looked in backstage recovery videos or how many upupdowndown videos he showed up to in what were essentially his pajamas. Dean had decided to stop loving Seth years ago and he’d powerbomb himself through a ladder before he started again.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he asked himself as his plane started its descent into the Quad City International Airport.

“Excuse me, sir?” a flight attendant asked.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” he responded.

In a last act of petty defiance, Dean didn’t call ahead to let Seth know he was coming. It didn’t matter, really, because it wasn’t like Seth could do much of anything but lie on his couch and hobble to rehab. Seth didn’t even have the decency to look surprised when Dean knocked on his door.

“Took you long enough,” was all Seth said, and Dean very nearly decked him before Seth stumbled, almost face-planting as he turned to walk back into the house. Dean didn’t offer him a hand, but he didn’t shove him over either. Sometimes he was shocked by his own generosity.

Dean trailed behind Seth, walking at the slow pace of Seth’s limp. When they got to the living room, Dean dropped down hard on Seth’s threadbare couch and bounced his knee, impatient for Seth to tell him what was up already. Seth took his sweet time getting comfortable, nestling under a thick quilt flecked with dog hair. It figured that the one time Seth managed to keep his mouth closed was when Dean needed him to talk.

“Do you remember,” Seth said, finally, when his blanket was apparently arranged to his liking, “the pact we made back in the Shield?”

Dean resisted the urge to grit his teeth. “You mean the pact to always have each other’s backs?” he asked.

Seth rolled his eyes. “No, no, no,” he said, “not that, the one just between me and you.” Seth fiddled with the edge of the blanket, tangling it over his fingers. “The pact that if we hadn’t bonded by the time we were done wrestling, we’d have a kid together.”

There it was. A part of Dean had known from that first, abortive phone call what this was going to be about, but the rest of him had thought that not even Seth could be that stupid.

Seth had always made a habit of shocking him.

“Yeah,” was all Dean said. He wished that his voice wasn’t so rough. “I remember.”

Seth tilted his head up and made steady eye contact with Dean. His mouth was a grim line, so at least he had no illusions that this was going to be easy. “I want to cash it in now,” he said.

Dean said, “You must be a goddamn moron.”

Seth tried to pretend he didn’t flinch at the words. He said, “I’m not asking you for anything.”

“Really?” Dean’s jaw was so tense it hurt. “Because it sounds like you’re asking me to knock you up and shackle myself to you forever.”

Seth’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “We’re already shackled together forever,” he pointed out. Dean didn’t have a comeback for that.

After a tense moment of silence, Seth repeated, “I’m not asking you for anything but your knot. I’ll take care of everything else. Don’t worry about money, come see the kid as often or as rarely as you want. Just do this one last thing with me.” Seth’s gaze was surprisingly steady. Dean imagined that he could read those deep brown eyes, that he could feel Seth’s heart through them, but he’d told himself that before. He said nothing.

Seth took an unsteady breath. “Dean,” he said. He didn’t say “please,” but it was implied. “This injury can’t be a complete waste of time. I won’t let it.”

Dean stared at the ugly blank ceiling of Seth’s apartment. Fuck. “Fine,” he spat out. He’d meant for it to sound angrier than it did.

Dean heard Seth sigh with relief. It just made his anger throb harder. “I’ll let you know when my heat starts,” Seth said, and that was that. Dean slammed the door on his way out, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

\---

Because Seth was nothing if not efficient, it only took him a week to go into heat. Because he was nothing if not annoying, it happened right in the middle of a Smackdown taping, meaning that when Dean dragged himself back to the locker room after his match, his phone was overflowing with pictures of Seth’s wet sheets and dripping thighs. Dean stared at the pictures in dumb shock for a moment, wondering how Seth could be so fucking stupid and trying to pretend that his dick wasn’t fattening up in his jeans.

“Everything alright, uce?” Jimmy asked on his way to his locker.

“Yeah, peachy,” Dean said.

He canceled his flight to Vegas and booked one to the Quad Cities. On the flight, he jerked himself off in the bathroom while imagining himself lapping all that spilled slick off the sheets.

\---

Dean reached Seth’s house before dawn, exhaustion doing nothing to dull his arousal. Seth’s door was unlocked, which was appreciated even if it was dumb as fuck. The second Dean got the door open, he got punched in the nose with Seth’s scent, like growing things and fresh, clean dirt. He didn’t bother to make sure that the door closed behind him, too busy trying to yank off his belt and toe off both his shoes at the same time.

Dean’s nose led him to the bedroom, the full, rolling waves of Seth’s pheromones practically a neon trail.

Seth was lying on his back, eyes shut tight, hair frizzed out around his face in a goddamn mess. He was shuddering and twitching all over, except for his injured leg, which he was keeping still through some unknown force of will.

Dean threw off the last of his clothes and flopped onto the bed, shimmying forward to get his face between Seth’s thighs. So close to the source, the scent was overwhelming, mouthwatering, Dean shoved his head between Seth’s legs and a string of drool dripped out of his mouth as he gave Seth’s wet hole a first lick.

It only took one pure burst of that flavor to send Dean straight into rut. He could feel the change in his head, in his body, suddenly the texture of Seth’s opening against his tongue was overwhelmingly intense. Seth’s thighs clamped down around Dean’s head, his fingers tangled in Dean’s hair, enclosing Dean in a warm cocoon of _right_ , and later it would piss Dean off that somewhere deep in his hindbrain Seth still registered as _his_ Omega, but in the moment Seth was letting out whining, whimpering sounds of need and Dean had a job to do.

“’S’okay,” Dean murmured, his mouth still pressed against Seth’s ass – cloaca, whatever, as an Alpha, he’d never really been clear on the difference, just knew that he had the boring one and Betas and Omegas could pop kids out of theirs – “I got you, gonna take such good care of you…” Dean _ached_ to knot his Omega, to relieve his pain, but Seth had been stewing alone in his juices for too long and needed some time to adjust to the presence of an Alpha first. Dean occupied himself with lapping up Seth’s slick, drowning in the fresh, clean smell of the outdoors, until his knot throbbed, threatening to pop before he could even get inside. Then he distracted himself by taking Seth’s small cock in his mouth.

Seth screamed, and Dean scrambled to pin his hips down, not wanted Seth to hurt himself in his thrashing. Some Omegas could come from having their cocks stimulated and Dean had fucked a few who could even get all the way hard, but Seth had never been one of those. His little bit was sensitive – almost too sensitive – but it wasn’t enough to get him over the edge. Dean had tried before, spent more than one hot and sticky afternoon lavishing it with attention until Seth’s eyes were leaking from overstimulation, but Seth needed something stretching him to reach that peak. Dean pulled back until Seth’s cocklet dropped out of his mouth. It was lovely, engorged with blood, flushed a deep red. When Dean ran a hand over it, it was little bit firmer than normal. Nothing like the stiff erection Dean was currently grinding into the sheets, but Seth’s interest was definitely being telegraphed. Dean gave the sweet little member some long, wet licks as he pressed his fingers into Seth’s needy opening, letting Seth’s desperate little wails wash over him until he could feel Seth’s inner muscles relax, leaving him gaping a bit for Dean’s cock.

“You ready?” Dean asked. He could feel just how ready Seth was but it never hurt to be sure.

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes,” Seth gasped out. He dropped one of his hands off Dean’s head to clench in the sheets. “Fucking get in me, I can’t, _Dean_.”

Dean was almost trembling as he rocked back onto his knees and shuffled into position. He met with no resistance as he tossed Seth’s good leg over his shoulder, careful not to jostle his bad one too much. Dean used one hand to hold his cock steady and press forward, so the bulbous head just kissed Seth dripping hole. The muscles twitched, fluttered, tried to draw Dean in. Yeah, he was ready.

It only took one long, slow slide for Dean to get all the way in, and when he paused to let lights flash in his brain, he could see tears in Seth’s eyes. Dean leaned down on impulse to lick them away, rubbing Seth’s own slick on his face in the process. Seth liked to be pounded good and hard, liked to prove he could take whatever his Alpha could give him, so Dean kept the pace slow and sweet. Seth arched into every thrust, taking Dean as deep as possible, and when Dean went in for a kiss Seth met him eagerly, lapping his own taste off of Dean’s tongue.

When Dean’s first knot of the night popped, he rocked it in to a symphony of moans, tiny little thrusts sinking him deeper and deeper into the welcoming heat. Seth’s head thrashed back and forth, his face was flushed red and covered into sweaty hair. When Dean’s knot slipped all the way inside, Seth reached a fumbling hand down to where Dean was gripping his hip, clenching Dean’s hand tightly as his inner muscles clamped down to hold Dean’s knot inside.

Dean had always scoffed at the idea that birth control made sex less pleasurable. He’d never been one of those knothead douchebags who insisted they could smell the difference, that knowing your seed was leaking into a fertile womb somehow made you come harder. He wasn’t quite ready to jump sides, but he could definitely feel a difference. His orgasm rolled out of him, and endless, full feeling all the way down to his toes. It wasn’t the sharp peak he was used to, but it was almost more overwhelming. His sight grew dim and his lips tingled as he went numb to everything but the tight channel milking his cock and Seth’s labored, pleasure-soaked breathing.

The orgasm didn’t end as much as it receded. Dean came back to himself hunched over Seth, his hands planted over Seth’s shoulders and their mouths barely an inch apart.

“Baby,” Dean croaked. Seth groaned and his eyes rolled back. Based on the way that he milked even more of Dean’s seed out of his dick, Dean guessed that it was either an aftershock or another orgasm. He tightened his fingers in Seth’s pillow.

A deep sound rumbled up from Seth’s chest. “So much,” he moaned. “Gonna – knock me up.”

Dean killed the space between their faces and kissed Seth. “We’re making a baby,” he panted, his breathe hot on Seth’s face. “Putting life in here.” Dean shakily moved a hand to Seth’s flat stomach. Seed was still sluggishly leaking out of Dean’s dick, sending a constant low thrum of pleasure through his veins.

Seth wriggled on the knot splitting him open. “Fuck,” he panted. They were so close, tied together, engaged in one of the most intimate acts two people could do together. Dean knew that later he would remember how to hate Seth again, but right now it was beyond him.

“This was a terrible position to knot in,” Dean said, and Seth laughed, sending his muscles shuddering over Dean’s knot again.

Seth reached up and brushed some of the hair off Dean’s forehead. His expression was dopey and fond. “It’s the most efficient way to get semen to the womb,” Seth said.

“Tell that to your thighs in half an hour,” Dean said. They kissed again, and time seemed to slip away. There was nothing but their bodies and the wet heat of the two points where they were connected.

Dean was right, of course, and when he could finally ease his shrinking knot out, any change of position made Seth tremble and cringe. Dean moved him as carefully as possible, rolled him onto his good side so Dean could slide back in as they spooned. Dean wasn’t all the way hard anymore but it was enough to stop Seth from feelings achingly empty.

Dean sucked and kissed at Seth’s neck until they were ready to go again and his cock thickened where it was buried inside. Maybe this position was less “efficient,” but it was much more comfortable, and gave Dean much better access. His restless hands were always occupied, whether he was tugging at Seth’s sensitive nipples or stroking his pink little cocklet or stroking the belly he was draining his seed into.

On the third day, Dean woke up with a clear head. He was still curled around Seth, still felt an instinctual urge to protect him and lavish him with attention. That impulse was running up against Dean’s actual feelings to Seth, now, though, so Dean peeled their sticky skin apart and rolled off the bed to look for his clothes. Seth stayed motionless but awake until Dean was on the way out of the bedroom.

“I’ll let you know if it worked,” Seth said. His voice was rough from sleep and overuse. Dean wanted to curl around him again, keep him warm and safe so he could focus on growing the life inside him.

“Fine,” Dean said, like a bitch. He let himself out.

\---

Three weeks later, Dean got a text from Seth. It was a picture of a pregnancy test.

Two minutes later, Seth send a follow up text that said, “Those lines mean positive.”

 _I’m going to be a father_ , Dean thought.

That night, Dean got very, very drunk, and then he didn’t talk to Seth for three months.


	2. Mating

Dean spent a lot of time trying not to think about Seth having his kid, which largely meant that he spent a lot of time being drunk while thinking about Seth having his kid. His thoughts mostly ran on the same loop:

  1. Dean had decided, years ago, that he would never have kids.
  2. Dean was a walking, talking example of exactly how wrong parenting could go.
  3. Dean was a piece of shit who no one would ever trust with a child.
  4. The older Dean got, the more he ran up against the fact that he wanted kids anyway.



It was the last one that was the real kicker. Despite everything, every stupid fucking decision he’d ever made, every time his genetics had kicked him straight in the ass, all of his resolutions and good intentions, Dean couldn’t even completely blame this shit on Seth. The truth was that Dean longed for this child, ached for it, jerked awake some nights because his body and brain craved the mate he didn’t have.

The one thing that Dean had promised himself, the one line he wouldn’t cross, was that he’d never knock up some poor Omega or Beta and leave them hanging. He’d been the only person in some companies that regularly used birth control and he’d driven partners to abortion clinics with money he’d somehow scraped together, but he’d never left a kid out there without a sire.

 _wuold you rathr have no sire or one whose crazy an gonn adie bfore hes fifty_ Dean typed into Google one night, six beers in, and then deleted it before hitting enter.

Seth, for all that he was a disloyal fuck, was responsible when it counted, and he had strong relationships in his clan. The kid wouldn’t lack for an Alpha presence. Dean was staying out of it.

\---

Three months into the pregnancy, Seth sent Dean an ultrasound picture. There was no commentary and Dean didn’t know what the hell it meant. He stared at it for hours, an endless chorus of _mine mine mine_ thrumming though his veins.

\---

Four months in, Dean was jerked out of an unsteady sleep by his phone going off. He smacked at it until he got it on speaker phone and buried his face in his pillow while he listened.

“Fuck,” Seth said, voice hoarse from distance and pain, “Fuck, Dean, Dean, Dean.” There was a muted sob. “I need – Dean, please, I _need_.” The line went dead.

Dean stared blankly at the darkness under the blankets. For a long time now, Dean had felt numb and alone, struggling against his Alpha instincts to be with the dam of his child. Now, a familiar anger was washing over him, sparking life back into his veins.

How dare he. How fucking _dare_ he. Did Seth think he could use him, throw him out, and just expect Dean to drop everything and run back to him whenever he got an itch? That stupid, selfish, sell out piece of –

They really shouldn’t sell booze on planes, was the next clear thought Dean could remember having, staring cross eyed at the tiny, empty bottle on the fold-out table in front of him. Dean vibrated through the cab ride from the airport, the anger and the alcohol haze giving him a comfortable glow. He was gonna grab Seth by his hair and pin him down, scratch his back up, leave him covered with bite marks. He didn’t remember paying the cabbie, but he was alone and pounding on Seth’s front door, so it didn’t matter.

The door swung open and Seth’s scent hit like a flying knee to the face. Dean’s nostrils flared, his eyes blurred, he almost doubled over. Seth was wearing some kind of Satanic ritual shirt and nothing else, his sweet slick visibly covering his muscular thighs. As Dean watched, Seth’s lower body contracted and a fresh drip rolled down his thigh.

Dean growled and shoved Seth inside, slamming the door behind them. He plastered himself to Seth’s body, needing to scent him, to own, to _protect_. Dean was rutting against Seth’s soft cock, biting him anywhere he could reach, reveling in Seth’s needy whines for more. Seth threw his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean shoved three fingers into him, feeling his own cock throb and pulse while Seth begged for more.

Seth’s stomach was clearly visible, but he hadn’t put on that much weight yet, so it was easy to carry him to the bed. Dean wanted to knot him so bad that his sensitive groin was almost in pain but he couldn’t stop himself, kneeling in front of Seth to press his mouth to Seth’s stomach in kiss after kiss after kiss.

The need was even worse in here, the bed filthy with Seth’s slick. He’d clearly been suffering in here for some time, aching for Dean to fill him up. Seth was tugging at Dean’s shirt, needing flesh on flesh but unable to get it with fingers clumsy with lust.

Dean shoved himself back. “Knees,” he growled. He stripped as fast as possible, eyes fixed on the flushed hole that Seth scrambled to expose to him, hands and knees and arching his back to show it off. When Dean covered him, Seth cried in relief. His eyes and nose and lips were glowing red, his hair was a frazzled, knotted mess; Dean had never seen anything more beautiful.

Dean _pounded_ him, much longer than he usually would, not letting up until he physically couldn’t pull his knot out anymore. Seth was so slick and ready that Dean could keep thrusting until his knot was more than halfway inflated, each tug at Seth’s rim sending him higher. “Mine,” Dean suddenly realized he was growling, “My lil Omega full up with my pup.”

Seth sobbed, “ _Yes!_ ” and Dean ground up against him, relishing the long, full pulses of his orgasm.

“Never lettin’ you out my sights again,” Dean groaned. “Gonna knot you so deep you’ll never push me out.”

Seth’s legs spread wider, struggling to present more than he already was. “Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, yes, yes, please.”

Dean’s fingernails were digging into Seth’s hips. “You’re never gonna get rid of me, bitch,” he rasped, and Seth clamped down on in a shuddering orgasm, strong contractions wracking his body over and over. The pressure on Dean’s knot was incredible and he grayed out for a moment, _pleasure_ and _connection_ and _good_ making his brain short out.

Seth was already asleep by the time Dean came back to himself. Dean could already smell the difference on him, the clawing need ebbing away. It wasn’t quite heat but it was close enough to not make sense; Omegas didn’t go into heat when they were pregnant and the swell of Seth’s stomach didn’t lie.

Dean eased them onto their sides to wait out the knot. He couldn’t keep his hands off Seth’s stomach. It wasn’t much of a bump yet but it was incredible, round with life. Seth had started to put on weight elsewhere, too, his cut look melting into a healthier softness. Dean rubbed Seth’s belly in soothing arcs, idly played to the dusting on hair around his belly button, nipped carefully around the mating spot on his neck. He tried to pull up the numbing anger from earlier, but like this he couldn’t pretend that his love for Seth wasn’t a permanent wound that leaked over everything else in his life.

When his knot went down, Dean pulled out as gently as possible. Seth whined in his sleep, his entrance fluttering, trying to grasp something. Dean hushed him. With his head clearer, he could see the dark circles under Seth’s eyes. He picked him up in a bridal carry and took him to the bathroom. Dean lay down in the tub with Seth on his lap. He gave his cock a few cursory jerks to get it hard enough and then eased Seth back on. Seth quieted immediately, nuzzling into Dean’s chest and sinking into a deeper sleep.

It was tricky to fill the bath with something like 250 pounds of sacked out Omega on him, but Dean managed it. He rubbed Seth down with the mostly depleted bar of soap resting on the edge of the tub, cleaning off the old slick and stale sweat that clung to him. The shampoo and conditioner were Herbal Essences, so Dean also gagged while washing Seth’s hair, but he persevered, doing his best to pick out the worst of the knots while Seth’s hair was wet and pliable.

Dean had to pull out again to give Seth’s hole a quick wipe down and get them both dried off. Seth didn’t wake up but he whined and pleaded, letting out pained little no’s that made Dean want to kill something. There was no way Dean could deal with it for long enough to change the sheets on Seth’s bed, but thankfully the guest room was made up. Dean pressed back in, tugging the covers over them, and he couldn’t say who passed out quicker, Seth or him.

\---

Dean woke up vaguely hung over, but nowhere near the worst he’d ever felt. His cock was someplace warm and welcome and his hand was cupping soft, round skin and his nose was buried in the incredible smell of home. Dean opened his eyes and watched his breath move the loose hairs by Seth’s ear.

“So,” Seth said. Dean could feel the vibrations of his throat across his face. “That happened.”

“Yup,” Dean said. For a second, crazily, Dean thought about mating Seth right now, just digging his teeth in and claiming him. He pushed the idea away. “I’m not leaving,” he said, instead.

“Oh, thank God,” Seth said, and while Dean was still reeling from that, Seth curled a hand over the one Dean had on his stomach, holding it close.

\---

“What the fuck was that?” Dean asked. He was being permitted to make the coffee and toast while Seth scrambled some eggs. Seth had lent him some of the soft sweatpants and worn out shirts that seemed to be the only thing he wore these days, his own outfit riding low on his hips and pulled a little tight over his belly. Dean wanted to wrap him in a blanket and take a bite out of him.

Seth poked at the eggs. “False heat,” he said. Dean didn’t think that he was imagining that Seth was avoiding eye contact. “My body can tell that I’m pregnant and unmated and it doesn't like it.”

The toast popped up and Dean set about slathering it in butter and jam, the way that Seth liked. “Man, I knocked you up and your slutty ass still can’t get enough of me?” He took a big bite out of one of the pieces of toast. Maybe he could do this, walk the line between rivalry and friendship. Be a weird uncle to his kid. Be close enough to watch their little family without ruining it.

Seth took the frying pan off the heat, switched the burner off. He leaned back against the counter, balanced on both hands, and stared at his feet. “I love you,” Seth said.

When Dean didn’t respond, Seth continued, “It was always a calculated risk, I knew you might just walk away, but I hoped – I wanted you to stay. I want you to stay.”

Seth rubbed his arm, hunched in on himself. “I know that you hate me and being with me forever is the worst hell you can imagine, but I want you to do it anyway.”

“What the fuck,” Dean said. “What the fuck is wrong with you.” Seth flinched. Dean crossed the room in two strides and pulled Seth into a full-body hug. “You think you could fucking get rid of me? Huh?” Dean whispered. “You don’t have it in you, motherfucker.”

Hesitantly, Dean felt Seth’s arms wrap around him. “Don’t underestimate me, dickhead,” Seth said. He sounded breathless.

“Estimate nothing. I’m that fucking good,” Dean said.

He heard Seth sniffle. “I can’t believe you just shoved your toast into my hair,” he said, voice wet.

Dean realized abruptly that he was smiling. He tried to stop, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Fuck off,” he said, a shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth, must to watch the way Seth screwed up his face in disgust.

\---

“Okay,” Seth said, putting down his fork. They were eating on Seth’s couch under a pile of blanket, because apparently nesting was very real. Seth dumped his plate onto the coffee table. He started to pull down his shirt to expose his collarbone, then visibly changed his mind and took it off altogether.

“Okay what?” Dean asked. He moved his own plate off the couch, because whatever was about to happen was clearly going to be physical.

“Mate me,” Seth said, matter of fact. He leaned back and bared his neck, every inch the submissive Omega.

Dean almost said, “Really?” or “Are you sure?” or “Are you fucking with me?” but instead he just crawled up Seth’s body and cupped his face with hands that were more reverent than he wanted. He tilted Seth’s head down so he could look him in the eye. Dean had never seen Seth look so vulnerable, his eyes wide and unsure in way that was alien on Seth’s face.

“Don’t look away,” Dean rasped out. He pressed even closer and lapped at Seth’s mating spot in wide strokes. Seth shivered, but Dean held him tight, kept him steady.

The moment before penetration lasted an eternity. The sharp edges balanced on the delicate skin, stretched to the furthest possible point without breaking. Seth’s fingernails dug into Dean’s back but it didn’t matter.

Dean punctured the skin and Seth _gasped_. Dean might have followed suit if his mouth wasn’t full. The mating bond flooded over him as a vibrating numbness. The closest thing Dean had ever felt to it was getting a stinger. It was sensation with no source, remaking him from the inside out. Seth was the best thing he had ever tasted.

The withdrawal was slow. Dean lapped the blood off of Seth’s neck as the feeling receded. Seth had shoved his hand up the back of Dean’s shirt and was clutching at the smooth skin.

“Hooooly shit,” Seth breathed. Dean laughed. He fell onto his side and curled around his mate – his pregnant mate – Dean reached out for Seth’s belly, more laughter bubbling up in his throat.

“Let’s fuck,” Dean suggested. He slid his hand down Seth’s pants, lightly cupping his delicate cock.

Seth nuzzled against him, relaxed and content. “Wash my hair first,” he ordered.

Dean grinned at him helplessly. “Wow,” he said. “My mate is such a spoiled brat.”

By the time they made it to the bath, there was jelly and come and slick on the couch. Seth complained, but by the time Dean was French braiding his clean hair, Seth was over it.


	3. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point on, strykelas is co-writing this story! Please give her a round of applause for keeping me on task, a herculean challenge if ever there was one.

Dean woke up with Seth warm and heavy in his arms, his face pressed into wild curly hair, Seth’s mating mark cool and smooth under his mouth. Dean let his hand drift down to curl over Seth’s stomach, cupping the round curve and petting at the trail of hair winding down from his belly button.

Seth mumbled in his sleep and squirmed a little, so Dean stilled his hand. Seth needed to rest, especially given how hard Dean was fucking him on the daily. They were practically glued together with come and slick, and some of the bright red sucking bruises he had made last night were coming through beautifully on Seth’s throat.

Dean was just thinking about going back to sleep when the doorbell rang. He wrinkled his nose, but the sound went off again a minute later and he didn’t want it to wake up his mate, so Dean dragged himself out of bed and shuffled to the door, scratching idly at the dried come on his stomach.

It was Brandon. For a second, they stared at each other, equally shocked. Dean could dimly remember Seth telling him that his brother was coming over, but he'd just assumed it was Roman- wondering when the two had started talking again. Honestly, Dean could count the amount of times he’d thought about Brandon on one hand.

“Hey, man,” Brandon said, finally breaking the silence. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Dean said, instead of  _ My cock, up your brother’s ass, specifically  _ which had been his first impulse. 

“Wanna help me carry in this baby stuff?” 

Dean said, “Sure.” See, that hadn’t been so bad. 

\---

“What the fuck are you doing? Go put a shirt on,” was how Seth greeted him when he finally managed to drag himself downstairs. Seth didn’t look any less well fucked than Dean did, but Dean was more than ready to be done with carrying heaps upon heaps of baby clothes out of Brandon’s car, so he skedaddled. He gave himself a cursory wipe down in the bathroom and tugged on a clean tank top before returning to the kitchen.

Brandon and Seth were sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in front of Brandon and decaffeinated tea in front of Seth. Dean tugged a chair up close to his mate so he could sprawl onto his shoulders and steal his tea. Seth wrinkled his nose, but allowed it.

“Congratulations,” Brandon said. “You two scar well.” The traditional reaction to their mating threw Dean a little. He could tell by the tension in Seth’s back that he wasn’t crazy about it either. Dean broke the anxious energy by spitting a mouthful of tea back into his mug.

“This herbal stuff tastes like ass,” he said.

Seth made a disgusted noise and elbowed Dean in the stomach. “ _ You _ taste like ass,” he snipped.

Brandon, bizarrely, was gazing at them fondly, the way that Seth looked at Kevin when he was chewing on the furniture in a particularly cute way. “It really is awesome that you two finally got together,” he said. “Dad’s gonna be so happy. Have you decided yet, if you’re gonna make it official before the birth or after?”

Seth went stock still in Dean’s arms, and Dean moved automatically to comfort his mate, dropping his hand to cup his heavy stomach through the worn Bears hoodie he was wearing and pressing a brief kiss to the marked side of his neck.

“Dad said he believed I could do this on my own,” Seth said.

Brandon could clearly tell that this conversation was going south. “Of course you  _ can _ ,” he said, too quickly, “but we’d all feel better if you weren’t going through all of this alone, you know?”

This wasn’t going anywhere good. “What do you mean, ‘official’?” Dean asked. “He’s wearing my bite and I’ve got my baby in him, how much more official can we get?”

Seth answered instead. “He means when are we having a ceremony,” Seth said. His voice was hard. “The answer is ‘never.’”

Brandon looked slightly affronted. “I meant when are you gonna get registered,” he said. “But if you don't want to have your family at your sacred moment of joining, I’m  _ sure _ that Dad will understand.”

The bitchiness in the room was making Dean’s nose itch. A small portion of his instinct was urging him to defend his mate against this Alpha that was upsetting him, but Brandon barely registered as a threat, so it was easy to brush off. Anyway, Dean had bigger concerns.

“You don’t want to do a thing when we get registered?” Dean asked.

Seth sniffed. “No, I don’t want to  _ demean _ myself by ritualistically giving up my personhood to become your property,” he snapped. Oh, yeah, Dean had kind of forgotten that Seth could be a rabid ohmenist at times.

“Okay, ‘s no big deal,” Dean decided. “I never thought I’d have any kind of bonding ceremony. Up until a couple years ago, I wouldn’t have had anyone to invite, anyway.”

Seth and Brandon didn’t always look all that much alike, being stepbrothers and all, but they gave Dean identical looks of mixed horror and awful realization.

“Fine,” Seth ground out. “We’ll do a thing. BUT!” he said, before Brandon’s grin could grow too wide. “It's going to be at the courthouse. And  _ you _ ,” Seth shoved a finger into Dean’s chest, “are telling Roman.”

Seth’s caveats didn't really work out the way he wanted them to; Brandon continued to look elated and Dean was feeling pretty good himself. “No prob, honey buns,” Dean said, and he lay a huge, smacking kiss on Seth’s head.

\---

Dean was feeling pretty good about the whole conversation, until the next time he and Roman were trapped in a car together for hours. Then he started to feel kind of weighed down by the news he was supposed to break. Finally, he just decided to go for it.

“Hey, Uce,” he said. “You got plans for next... Wednesday?”

Roman didn’t take his eyes off the road, steering one-handed, as cool as you please. “Drink some beers, spend time with the kid, maybe take a nap,” he said. “Why, you doing something?”

Dean said, “You wanna... be my Best Alpha at my bonding ceremony?” His heart was pounding hard, he'd hoped to god Roman wouldn't be upset with him for keeping the news to himself. But it wasn't as though he and Seth were really thinking hard before they did any of this. Roman continued to look at the road ahead, a quizzical look coming over his face.

"Uh," he chuckled, blushing. "Uh… huhuhuh…."

"I uh, mated Seth,” Dean breathed. "He's not all about doing any big thing, just something quick at the courthouse-" he plowed on. "I guess we need witnesses and stuff and I guess it's not a real big DEAL if you don't go but-"

"Of course I'll go." Roman snorted. "Damn man, you're really doing this though?"

"Yeah," Dean laughed, his voice strained and foreign. He drummed his fingers on his leg. "Fuck- do you think we need to dress up and shit, right?"

"Yeah!" Roman snorted. "Jesus, are you ready for this at all?"

"Well, no,” Dean said quickly. He didn't need to think about that part much at all. He had no idea what he was getting into but nothing felt  _ wrong _ . Roman just chuckled darkly, rubbing his forehead. "But I'm doin' it right? It's what I'm supposed to do. Seth's family wants it more than anything, we don't give a rat’s ass. He's super pissy about it really."

"Yeah, sounds like him."

"But you'll do it, right?" Dean nodded. "You'll be there?"

"Yeah, I said I would." Roman laughed. "Might be laughing the whole time, but I'll sign whatever you want."

"Asshole," Dean muttered, but he was still smiling. It didn't take Roman telling him he was unprepared to know it. The idea of mated pairs spending thousands of dollars and time and enormous effort- making little pristine hand-made invitations for ceremonies? It was out of the realm of possibility for two people like Dean and Seth. A judge would bond them, and then he'd need to tell his tax man the news, really nothing would be more different in their lives than the reality of Seth getting fatter and less patient with him as days wore on. 

"Thanks," Dean mumbled several minutes later, uncrossing his legs and looking out the window. Things would be alright, it wasn't as though he ever planned anything before anyway. 

\---

Dean didn’t put much thought into what he was going to wear. He only had the one suit and he hadn’t worn it since the last Hall of Fame induction ceremony, so it took him a while, fumbling around in his Vegas apartment, to find it crumpled in a ball behind an armchair in his living room. Seth wrinkled his nose at it when he dug it up, pawing through Dean’s luggage.

“When was the last time you washed this?” Seth asked.

Dean said, “I-unno,” which turned out to be a good thing because they didn’t have time to get it dry cleaned, so Seth let him just wear a clean pair of jeans and a button up shirt.

Seth was far enough along now that he couldn’t fit in his old clothes, but plenty of people got bonded after they got knocked up, so it wasn’t hard for him to buy some nice-ish clothes that were cut extra wide for him.

He was being weird about the whole thing. On the one hand, Seth aggressively didn’t want it to be a big deal. He wouldn’t even let his Dam go with him to Target to help pick out his wedding outfit. It was just like Seth to try too hard at half-assing shit, plus he was visibly fighting his instincts to overplan like a motherfucker. Dean just counted himself lucky that Seth didn’t break down and announce that he needed to plan his dream goth-emo wedding on the night of the new moon or some shit.

Thankfully, things seemed much calmer when they actually rolled up to their appointment with the Justice of the Peace, but official buildings always made Dean nervous. And it turned out that official buildings with his fiance’s family in them made him extra nervous.

“How you holding up?” Roman asked in a low voice while Seth greeted his parents. They only needed one witness each, but they’d both brought three guests - Seth had his parents and brother, Dean had Roman, Jimmy and Jey. 

“Awesome,” Dean said lowly.

Roman raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?” he asked. “‘Cause you’re lookin' pretty sweaty there, Uce.”

"Dean Ambrose!" 

Before Dean could mumble out some lie, Seth's family sprung him, pulling him in for an awkward hug. The older woman, Seth's Dam, looked him up and down sweetly, eyes a little wet. Over her shoulder, Seth had turned away, rubbing his face in his hands, frustrated.

"It's just been so long, and here we are!" she cooed. "We were all saying there was no way you  _ couldn't _ be charming, what with how silly you are on the television."

"Oh, haha," Dean choked out, his hands shaking. Roman patted him on the shoulder, trying to will him through such a bizarreness of the whole interaction. "D'yeah- love your son!" 

"We can tell by how he talks about you-" She laughed, rubbing Dean's hand assuringly. "Such rough lives- we weren't sure it would ever be a possibility, what, really  _ bonding _ and all. Oh, but it's such a nice day!"

"-Got 't back 'a the van all loaded up with weddin' presents." Seth's step-sire nodded, Brandon looked giddy. "Dinner's all on us of course. We're so glad you're the Alpha Seth says you are- going through with this and making an honest dam out of him."

"Y-yeah." Dean nodded, sure Seth was probably about to have a tantrum. "Yeah, yeah. It's uh, it's a real ride but we're uh, excited and all."

A bored looking government employee poked his head out of the door. “Rollins and Ambrose?” he asked. Dean hadn’t even realized that the handsy couple wearing matching football jerseys that had been ahead of them in line had finished. 

Their group trooped into the Justice of the Peace’s office. To be honest, Dean had been expecting a courtroom, the shabby kind that he’d been brung up to on drug charges for more than once, but it was an expensive, professional setting, the kind with dark, rich wood and tomes on legal proceedings. 

The Justice of the Peace was a stern looking alpha with sharp features. “Do you have your paperwork in order?” he asked, giving Dean flashbacks to his middle school principal, and not just because his mind had completely blanked on bringing documentation. 

“Right here,” Seth said, producing the papers from a manila folder. Dean relaxed; for a second there he’d forgotten that he was marrying up, responsibility-wise.

“Excellent, excellent,” the Justice said, skimming the papers. “We can get started right away, then.” He cleared his throat. “Do you, Seth Daniel Rollins, take Dean Jonathan Ambrose to be your lawful mate, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in barrenness and in fertility, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Seth said. His dam let out a noisy sob.

The line was repeated, bearing Dean's title. He felt like the words were muffled, as though he was listening underwater. His heart beat fast and his hands trembled awfully. 

Dean mouthed, “I do,” just loud enough to hear, having seen enough movies in his life to get it correct. 

“I now pronounce you mated, in the sight of the law and of your kin. You may now embrace as a mated pair.”

Seth tucked himself into Dean’s arms for a quick few seconds before signing. Both men picked up the heavy pen and scrawled their celebrity signatures before shuffling aside so their witnesses could make their own marks. 

Seth’s family swallowed him up on the way out. Dean drifted, disconnected. He caught Roman wiping a tear out of his eye and looked at him like he was crazy. His friend punched him in the side affectionately. “My baby brothers are getting all growed up,” he said hoarsely.

"You getting hungry sweetheart?" Seth's Dam said in a sort of syrupy, overly sympathetic tone. "It's so much to process, I'm sure, but we're so proud of you."

Dean looked up to catch the exhausted, grave look Seth gave his family. He didn't look upset or sad, it was a difficult look. Dean couldn't imagine he looked much more put together at the moment. The official documentation in Seth's hand looked damp with sweat.

"Buca Di Beppo!" Brandon said excitedly, and they made their way to the parking lot, splitting up to get to the restaurant. 

"The hell is a Buca Di Beppo?" Dean whispered to Seth, putting a tentative hand on his back as they made their way to the car, pulling on sunglasses. 

"Pasta," was the only reply he got.

Topping off the day of confusion, discomfort and complicated expectations, the family style dinner setting was cram packed into a private room at the back of the restaurant, which was busy and understaffed. Dean tried his best, feeling more at ease with a round of drinks passed out, being as charming and funny as he could be to impress. Roman, Jimmy and Jey did their part as well, telling funny wrestling stories and amusing Brandon. 

Seth, however, seemed to have wilted a little, giving off a sort of diffused, stale scent. Dean tried to be as comforting a possible, making Seth's Dam and Sire smile as he laid a comforting hand on his thigh any time Seth sighed loud enough to hear.

"You're hungry," Dean noted, patting Seth's thigh. "Don't we get some table bread at this place?"

"That waiter," Seth's Dam sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to see if we can't get some service around here. So unprofessional."

Forty-five minutes, two kitchen visits and a table-side apology from the manager was all it took for a comped dinner, dessert and drinks to come out. Everyone was ravenous and a little cranky biting into their supper, but Dean just wanted to finish and be done with it. Brandon and his Dam wouldn't stop bothering Seth, asking if he was alright and trying to offer him more food and water.

"It's all… overcooked," Seth mumbled, rubbing his eyes and biting bitterly into a bit of table bread. "It's disgusting, I'll eat at home." 

"Whatever you want babe," Dean just repeated over and over, grimacing at the thick ricotta cheese in his mouth. 

Sitting in a car full of gifts of goodwill heading back to Seth's house, Dean felt at ease being finished with the day, but knew he was facing an oncoming storm as Seth sat quietly, staring out the window. It was drizzling rain, overcast and a little chilly. Lazily, probably without even noticing it, Seth was kneading little circles against his stomach, still giving off that dull scent.

"What do you need when we get home?" he tried, turning on his windshield wipers and signalling to turn. Seth sighed, readjusting.

"We can just leave… this shit in the car," Seth offered. "Deal with it all later. I'm fucking exhausted."

"Some dinner in bed?" Dean tried. "You feelin' sick?"

"I'm fine."

Dean just sighed, feeling his own headache creeping on. 

When they arrived home, Seth walked a few paces ahead, leaving Dean to dully watch Seth’s backside. He smiled, realizing his walk was a little more waddle-y these days, feeling immensely uplifted by the familiar scent of the house. It was over, it was done. Seth’s family probably wouldn’t be around en masse until the baby was due. They’d gotten through it fine.

“What do you wanna eat?” Dean asked, taking off his jacket. “I’ll just make it. Or I can run’n grab something if you-”

“I’m not hungry.”

It was a pretty obvious lie and Dean’s alpha instinct gnawed at him like a bad itch. He had to do something, his mate was distressed. As much as he would’ve liked to just leave Seth alone and let him figure himself out, their bond linked them too tightly to let things be.

“What’s up,” Dean sighed, approaching slowly and carefully, not entirely sure if Seth would yell at him or shirk him off. He ran his fingers around the underside of his stomach and pressed into his back, breathing calm.

Seth shifted like he was gearing up to pull away, but stayed put in Dean’s embrace. “I told you, I'm fine,” he said.

Dean started to gently rub circles on Seth’s stomach, aware that one wrong movement could set Seth off. “Don’t bullshit me, babe,” he said. “You think I don’t know when you’re working yourself up to a fit?”

That seemed to be the tipping point. Seth let out a strangled yell and shoved Dean away. He tried to storm out of the room, but his new waddling gait killed any drama he could work up. Dean followed behind as Seth dragged himself to the bedroom, careful to walk slowly so he wouldn’t overtake his mate.

Finally, Seth was able to sit down heavily on their bed. It seemed like the walking tantrum had burned out whatever energy reserves he had left. He was flushed with embarrassment and as Dean watched, his eyes started to get wet.

Dean didn’t know what the fuck to do in this situation, so he just got on the bed and squirmed behind Seth again, pulling him onto his side so they could spoon close together. Seth didn’t exactly cooperate but he didn’t push Dean away, either, and soon Dean was cradling him gently, rubbing his baby bump the way he knew Seth liked.

When Seth started talking, it was less like he had decided to open up to Dean and more like he was just adding another dimension to the argument he’d been having in his head for hours.

“I’ve  _ never _ cared about weddings,” he snapped. “Never! I didn’t dream about it when I was a pup, I didn’t doodle outfits on the back of my notebooks. I shouldn’t care. I  _ don’t _ care!”

Many people had told Dean before that he never knew when to shut up, but he could sure tell that right now was a good time to keep those lips zipped. He hummed into the back of Seth’s neck and kept stroking him.

“So why am I…” Seth sniffled, and angrily raised a hand to wipe his face. “I shouldn’t be upset about this!” he snapped. “I’m not that kind of omega!”

Dean was starting to wish that he’d paid more attention to Seth when he went off about that Ohmenist stuff because he had no idea what Seth wanted to hear. Jokes about black magic goth bonding ceremonies aside, he’d never thought of Seth as the kind of person who’d want the traditional ceremony, with all the flowers and lace and shit, but it wasn’t like there’d be a problem if he was - they were both rolling in it now, he could have all overpriced, sequined outfits he wanted. 

Something Seth had told him lately pinged in Dean’s mind, and he ventured, “Didn’t you tell me last week that you cried for like half an hour about that coffee commercial with the lost dog?”

After a tense silence, Seth said, “Maybe...”

“Wellllll,” Dean said, “if your hormones are fucking you up about  _ that _ …”

Seth kicked him in the shin. “Don’t blame everything on my hormones,” Seth snapped. “I’m not some out-of-control, over emotional mess.”

Dean let himself relax a little, feeling like the possibility for disaster had passed. “Oh yeah? I’ll tell the dirtsheets you're a sobbing mess, they’ll be thrilled.”

Seth huffed out a laugh. “No they won’t,” he groused, “They wouldn't have anything to spin if I'm already losing it."

Dean chuckled into Seth’s nape. Here in their bed together, it seemed silly to have been disappointed by the bonding ceremony. They certainly hadn’t cared when they’d gotten mated in the damn kitchen.

“Maybe we should have arranged for a run-in,” Dean suggested idly. Seth half rolled over to give Dean a look. “That’s how in-ring bondings always end. Someone does a run-in or gets thrown in a cake or turns out to be bonded to Triple H or something.”

Seth slapped himself in the forehead. “I completely forgot!” he said. “Hunter drugged me and married my unconscious body back when I first joined the Authority! Sorry, looks like you’re a bigamist now.”

Dean grinned at him, toying with the hem on his shirt. “I knew there was a good reason that you betrayed us,” he said. “How could Vegas turn on me like this?”

Seth fell into Dean, laughing quietly. “I guess it wasn’t  _ so _ bad,” he said, finally losing some of the tension in his face. 

Dean gave him a chaste kiss. “Nah,” he said, “it was a disaster, I’m never bonding you again.”

“Good,” Seth mumbled. “‘Cause next time I’m wrapping up a snake and giving it to you.”

They giggled at their own bad jokes until Dean got up and made them his own little Happy Bowl sandwiches that Seth had begrudgingly gotten a taste for over the past couple of weeks. They cuddled together over the sheets, dropping crumbs and making a mess over the paper plates that was difficult to contain. Seth didn't seem to care though, thoroughly exhausted by the emotional day, he got comfortable fast, letting Dean pet and massage him after they'd finished, humming happily. The last thing Dean saw before he fell asleep was his hand curved over his mate’s pregnant belly, their bond thrumming safe and secure in his veins.


	4. Faking

As it turned out, the dirt sheets were more than happy to weasel their way into Seth and Dean's lives. Dean didn’t think that Seth was stupid enough to assume he could just get bonded in a courthouse and go walking around heavily pregnant without anyone noticing, but he didn’t seem to have any kind of plan besides total avoidance. At about seven months, his condition was plainly obvious. Dean kept joking he was his own personal air wick, his scent mutating into something earthy and dramatic. Paranoid about his private life being intruded upon, Seth had been spending more and more time holed up inside his house, making Dean pick up several hundred dollars worth of groceries each time he came home from the airport.

"You're big," Dean noted in lieu of a warm greeting, his hands laden with groceries. It was the first time that week he'd seen his mate, and, like always, Seth was a little rounder. Dean had his hand extended with a jug of orange juice for Seth to grab, but instead he was met with a cellphone being shoved into his face.

"Can you fuckin' believe this shit? And I thought I was safe!"

Dean set down the groceries, looking down an article jam packed with ads and pop ups, breaking a story that Seth Rollins was pregnant with evidence of phone photos someone had sneaked from a crossfit box where he'd been doing ring rows with a baby bump.

"The hell you working out for?" Dean asked, frowning. "Is your knee even ready for that shit?"

'"Shutup," Seth scoffed, his face blanching as his phone began to ring. Hunter Hearst Helmsley was calling. 

Seth waddled to their bedroom to take the call and almost closed the door on Dean’s foot when he tried to follow. Dean paced the kitchen for ages, and was even considering throwing some of Seth’s gross organic food in the fridge when Seth finally came back out.

The phone was clutched limply in Seth’s hand and he was pale and shaky. Dean was on him in an instant, hustling him to an armchair and putting Seth’s feet on the ottoman.

Dean didn’t have any illusions about who Seth had worked with to betray the Shield, and even if he respected the reasons now - even if he could admit that Seth never would have gotten this far as a legitimate wrestler if he hadn’t so dramatically quit as the Shield’s valet - he still didn’t trust Hunter a goddamn bit. Seth had the same weird, fawning relationship with Hunter that most of the new kids did, this glowing sort of admiration for his hulking father figure, but in Dean’s eyes, he would always be a manipulative snake who needed to keep his blue-blooded paws off Dean’s mate.

Seth wriggled a little against Dean’s manhandling him, but he was clearly too distressed to pretend that he didn’t like the attention. He cupped his cellphone in his lap, staring at it until Dean tossed one of the ugly blankets Seth’s Dam had knitted over him. Seth still didn’t say anything, he just tipped his head back and let his eyes fall closed.

Finally, Dean said, “Well? What’s the damage?” Honestly, he hadn’t been worried about it much at all. Hunter and Stephanie had pups back home somewhere and the way they carried on, Dean had half expected them to show up at the birth and demand their due as grandparents. Now, worst case scenarios were dancing in his head; they wouldn’t really fire Seth for getting knocked up, would they? 

Seth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He said, “We need to go in on Friday. There’s going to be a meeting with Hunter, Vince, talent relations. We’re going to do some damage control.”

Dean fell backwards onto his back. “Jesus! Is that all? I thought they were putting you back in your old SWAT team stripper outfit and making you my valet, the look on your face.”

Seth’s cell phone bounced off Dean’s head. “That could still happen!” he snapped. “Hunter was not happy, okay? And meetings with Vince are almost never good news.”

Dean propped himself up so Seth could see him roll his eyes. “Vince’ll probably try to sign the pup before you push it out,” he argued. “He’ll be thrilled. He loves me, he’s gonna go nuts when he finds out I’ve spawned.”

Seth still didn’t look happy, but at least he was pouting now, which was pretty low-grade, as far as Seth’s bad moods went. “Maybe he does love you,” Seth said, bitchily, “but that’s not going to help you in your Total Omegas debut.”

Dean went cold. “I’m not on Total Omegas,” he said, uselessly. It was a bullet he’d managed to dodge pretty well so far, though he’d laughed at the Usos about it often enough. He’d never actually watched the show; as far as he knew, it was mostly about weird sex arguments and cats.

Seth smiled at him sweetly, which couldn’t mean anything good. “You’re bonded to the  _ star _ of Total Omegas,” he said. “Do you know what that means?”

Dean watched in mute horror as Seth leaned closer to him, a cruel smile growing across his face. “You’re going to be the  _ leading man _ of Total Omegas,” Seth taunted, and Dean grabbed his chest dramatically. 

He spent the next few minutes pretending to gag to death while Seth laughed at him, and by the time they went to bed, Seth had his color back.

\---

Seth was right and the meeting was dreadful horseshit, but Dean was also right and it ended up not mattering that much. Vince made a few off-color, patronizing comments and Hunter had reprimanded them for trying to go about their plans without putting the company on notice. But everyone seemed to be in agreement that Seth shouldn't be canned and that they could make the best of a mishandled pregnancy by making the better part of a season for Total Omegas a dramatic navigation of the situation.

"Well, you two surely need to have some tension then." Stephanie nodded deviously, looking between Seth and Dean. "Maybe… pup stops moving? Something goes wrong?"

"That's awful," Dean scoffed without thinking. Seth kicked him under the table and Dean looked scandalized. Seth was carrying the damn thing, how could he not think it was a terrible idea?

"Too medical." Seth shook his head. "Needs to be more inter-personal and relatable." 

"Why are we fighting?" 

"Maybe, a disagreement over a doctor," Hunter proposed, bored.

"Dean Ambrose…" Seth chewed his cheek for a moment, thinking. "Dean Ambrose thinks Seth Rollins is too fat and pregnant to be attractive."

"Perfect." Vince grinned. "And he makes you cry.  _ Genius _ ."

The whole thing felt intrusive and disgusting, but everyone except Dean seemed on board so he couldn't imagine stopping it. Personally, Dean had never been more attracted to his mate. The pregnancy hormones he was giving off were so distracting, they had to get a fuck in before they tried to eat or sleep. Dean didn't really understand what he would be contractually obligated to do, but Seth gave him a good enough reason, scrolling through his phone in the car.

"This is the check I got from last season," he explained. Dean's eyes widened, gripping tight to the steering wheel. 

So he'd do what he'd do and that was that. Seth was the star, as he'd put it. All he'd have to do was follow, right?

\----

Dean never knew that it took so many people to make reality television. Seth’s house was already crawling with techs by the time Dean stumbled out of their bedroom. Dean had to shuffle around two cameras and a tangle of wires just to join Seth in the kitchen.

“You could have woken me up,” Dean said, pouring himself a hefty bowl of Fruit Loops. 

Seth was already shoveling down his daily small mountain of eggs. “‘S no big deal,” Seth said. “They won’t be ready for us for hours yet. Nobody else ‘ll even show up for awhile.”

“Ugh,” Dean said. He’d forgotten that they had co-stars. “Who all is on this show again?”

Dean flopped down across from Seth at the kitchen table, making it much easier for Seth to glare at him. “I can’t believe that you never watched my show at all,” Seth groused. “I know it’s garbage, but it’s your job to support me.”

It took Dean a minute to realize that there was no spoon in his bowl, but he just shrugged it off and grabbed a handful of dry cereal to shovel in his mouth. “‘Wasn’t th’ last time your show was on,” he mumbled with his mouth full, then dodged to avoid the lump of egg Seth flicked at him. The tiny patter of feet arose as Kevin trotted over to clean up the treat.

“There’s a season airing right now,” Seth snipped. He was in top-form bitchiness, but Dean wasn’t worried. Seth was generally grumpy more often than he wasn’t these days and Dean knew he was arguing just to argue. Dean flicked a Fruit Loop into Seth’s eggs, making Seth wrinkle his nose.

“I’m on the damn thing now, aren’t I?” Dean pointed out. Seth huffed but didn’t argue.

After breakfast, they moved to the living room and Seth made Dean rub his shoulders while strangers treked all over the house. Tyler Breeze was the first of the cast to arrive, swanning in with four Starbucks cups in a cardboard holder.

“Look at you!” he exclaimed cheekily. “You’re a whale. I can barely stand to look at you!” He dropped the coffees on the table and swooped in to kiss Seth on both cheeks. “Yours is the one labeled ‘Oliphaunt.’”

“I can’t drink caffeine,” Seth pointed out, rubbing his beard and resting a hand on his stomach, bored. 

Tyler looked offended. “You think I don’t know that?” he said. “It’s an iced tea lemonade. I got your uggo baby sire a mocha frap, he seems like the type to drink garbage.”

A script was tossed their way and as the lights and sound were readied, Summer arrived and the three omegas all chatted, talking about the state of wrestling affairs and the pros and cons of taking time off to rear pups. Dean paged through the script, which wasn't all that different than one for Raw or Smackdown, with key points to hit and topics of conversation.

Dean was placed right under what he thought was the hottest light possible, with Seth practically sprawled out over him. Reflexively, Dean pulled his hand across Seth's shoulders, massaging them lightly.

"No, you-" Seth looked exasperated. "You need to act like you don't like me."

Dean squinted, pulling his hands back and setting them on his own knees as the cameraman cued the shot and Tyler and Summer began squawking over a prenatal yoga session. 

"It's such a therapeutic environment!" Tyler beamed. "The atmosphere is so calm- it's all based in science but it's such a restorative, focused activity."

"I just went like, to their regular classes." Summer nodded. "They like, cater to omegas  _ so _ well though."

"Well, it's probably not  _ intense _ enough for me." Seth rubbed his stomach in a way that Dean could only describe to be cartoonish. "Dean, you wanna come too?"

"He'll have to wear a scent-blocker," Tyler said stiffly. "All the Alphas have to."

Everything felt really uncomfortable and honestly, all Dean could manage was a sort of lame shrug. He hadn't looked at enough of the script to know what the hell he was supposed to be doing, but Seth's look of ambivalence and concern seemed… planned.

"You'll love it," Summer reiterated, looking to Seth fondly. "It's just what you need."

“Well…” Seth turned and gave Dean a significant look. “I guess I have been looking for some…  _ alternative _ ways to blow off steam…”

Dean tried not to look too horrified. Was he supposed to be saying something here? What was going on?

“Cut!” the director shouted. “That was great, guys. I think we should do a private chat between Seth and Tyler now, to get deeper into the drama.”

Tyler helped Seth to his feet and they moved to the loveseat on the other side of the room, Seth waving Dean off when he tried to help. Summer drifted over to look at the family pictures hung by the stairs, and Tyler and Seth started in on their “private conversation.”

“What did you mean about blowing off steam?” Tyler asked. “Is Dean not… performing up to standards?”

Seth heaved a dramatic sigh. “It’s not that,” he said, turning a full 180 degrees to look away from Tyler. “It’s just that, he and I  _ haven’t _ , you know.”

Tyler arched an eyebrow. “In how long?” he asked.

Seth bit his lip like he was in deep thought. “A few months, at least,” he said. “Ever since I seriously started to put weight on. I mean, I get it, I wouldn’t want to touch me either, but I have urges too, you know?”

Tyler lay a hand on his shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. “That must be so hard on you,” he said. “I can’t even imagine being such an uggo that your own mate doesn’t want to touch you. Let me take you out to get your nails done. Maybe that will trick you into feeling less hideous.”

Dimly, Dean was aware that he was flushed with anger. He surged to his feet and tried to tell Tyler where he could stuff it, but a sound tech scurried into his path to adjust the boom mic. Seth and Tyler didn’t even seem to notice.

Seth put his hand over Tyler’s. “Thanks, Tyler,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t know  _ what _ I’d do without friends like  _ you _ .”

Forced to sit and watch for five more takes of varying styles and intensity, Dean went from angry to disbelieving, watching his mate spin whining lies about how sexually unsatisfied he was. The crew began to load up the gear they had, making calls to their secondary unit over at this yoga studio they'd have to drive over to- Dean watched in a sort of blur as Summer, Tyler and Seth easily snapped back into reality, sipping their drinks.

"Doin' great." Seth mumbled, sensing Dean's confusion. "Just keep acting like you don't wanna be here and it'll go fine."

"I don't wanna be here."

"That's the spirit."

The Yoga studio felt a lot more comfortable and safe if only because they weren't cramped into Seth's house doing some horrible acting. The facility was a functional studio and other pregnant omegas were wandering through, a little bewildered by the entourage of cameras and lights. One of the producers assured them that all of the ones in the class had agreed to sign waivers. 

"You do actually have to wear a scent blocker though." Tyler insisted. "I think they'll give you some. When the camera's are rolling."

"I didn't bring... " Dean looked around at all the omegas wearing athletic garb. "I don't got stretch pants."

"That's fine, just complain about how much you hate it." Seth waved him off. "I do need to change though."

It was almost one o'clock before they'd finished with all the principle shots of the group walking in. Dean smeared on enough scent blocker to evade police dogs and Seth changed into a sporty sort of stretchy leggings and a draping tank top that still didn't quite hide the bottom of his belly.

Despite being completely thrown and uncomfortable by the whole affair, Dean was slowly realizing it was actually the easiest job he'd probably ever had. The trick was just not to think too hard about it. The class started, with Summer and Tyler on either side of them, doing the same elementary breathing exercises. Seth sat on a little foam piece to open up his hips more, and Dean just sat behind him, bored, occasionally laying a hand on his back or grunting 'good job babe' but even this seemed to be too much.

"Lay down on your mat," Seth encouraged, restraining himself from chuckling. "Text on your phone or something."

Dean obliged, doing his best to shut Seth out and look disinterested. The cameras pulled in closer and Seth did his best to shoot Dean sad and confused looks while Summer and Tyler hissed and cleared their throats. 

_ "Feel yourself opening up for your baby…" _

"Dean," Seth said softly, acting. "This part is for the Alphas too…"

"You got this babe," Dean mumbled, hamming it up by grabbing one of the foam pads for the Omegas and using it for a pillow. "Just remember to breathe."

It was a little fun playing the asshole, until Dean remembered that the episode would air and everyone would think he was the worst piece of shit imaginable. The class ended and Dean decided to 'check out' early, leaving the Omegas to gossip about how disconnected he'd been. 

The next stop was to a specialty store where the Omegas could coo over tiny custom outfits for pups. Dean had always hated clothes shopping, but it turned out that babies had way better options than grown ups did.

“Babe, look, look.” Dean punched Seth in the shoulder, interrupting his argument with Tyler over which organic cotton blend was the least irritating to young skin. “We need to get this one.” Dean held up an orange onesie with “I just did 9 months on the inside” written on it.

The resulting argument completely overwrote whatever had been scripted for the rest of the episode.

“My pup is not wearing a shirt that says ‘I drink until I pass out!” Seth shouted. Tyler was transparently snapchatting their fight will Summer covered her mouth so the cameras wouldn't see her laughing.

“It’s funny!” Dean yelled back. He was half expecting a producer to come over and stop them, but everyone seemed more interested in making sure the mics were picking everything up. “You already bought four different Grumbledore shirts. Why can’t our pup wear anything I like?!”

“It’s Gryffindor and I will not apologize for raising a child that’s brave and chivalrous!” Seth screamed.

They kept it up until the director decided he had enough footage, and then they had to shoot Dean storming out at least ten times. It still felt fake and awkward, but the warmth from the familiar ground of petty arguing carried Dean through it.

When they finally left, Dean felt like he’d wrestled a whole tournament in one day, and it still wasn’t over. “And we have to do  _ how _ many episodes of this?” he whined, lying flat on his back on the couch.

“Not such an insult to wrestling now, are we?” Tyler snarked. He was scrolling through something on his phone. “Something’s wrong with GrubHub, there’s barely anything on it.”

“There just isn’t much around here,” Seth said. He was sitting in the big easy chair with his feet up. “Just get a pizza.”

Tyler looked scandalized. “I can’t believe you choose to live in this dump,” he said.

Dean kneaded his forehead, privately wanting everyone out of the house so he could mentally regroup. He didn't want to see the episode, didn't want to imagine having some fake version of his life up on television. He was bonded now and as strange and surreal as it seemed, he wanted to respect whatever that meant.

"My ankles are gonna swell like hell in an hour." Seth mumbled, nestling down even further in the chair, probably preparing for a nap. He rubbed the underside of his stomach, pulling a face. "Pup won't stop movin'." 

"Am I allowed to touch you now?" Dean joked, looking up. Seth looked like he was trying to roll half lidded eyes, his head flopped over on his shoulder. Summer and Tyler cooed as Dean came closer, sitting on the footrest and rubbing Seth's belly where his hand was fidgeting. They were both wiped, but up close, Dean could tell Seth would be snoring in moments.

"You want me to put you to bed?" he offered, tucking his head to Seth's mating spot and giving it a little nibble. "You look tired as hell."

"I'm fine," Seth yawned. "There's people… here…"

"No biggie," Dean purred, "I can talk to people." He continued kissing down the nape of Seth's neck and to his collarbone, breathing slowly. "Talk about… boring dad stuff… show off all the baby onesies I bought behind your back…"

Seth elbowed him hard in the ribs with surprising agility and Dean seized, catching his breath. Even in his third trimester, Seth packed a fuckin' punch. 

“You just want me to leave before you order so I can’t make you get taco pizza,” Seth grumbled.

Dean clutched his chest in shock. “I would  _ never _ do something so conniving!” he said. “How could you even - Tyler, quick, while he’s distracted!”

“I already ordered italian sausage while you were necking,” Tyler said.

Dean said, “Score!” and then “Fuck!” when Seth shoved him off the couch.

 


End file.
